


Banger

by Self_conscious_mess



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Geralt gets back at him, Geralt is so done, Jaskier has been a bit too chatty with his bard friends, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, they're stupidly in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:27:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22776388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Self_conscious_mess/pseuds/Self_conscious_mess
Summary: To Geralt's great annoyance, Jaskier put his foot in his mouth and a song came out of it. But isn't revenge said to be sweet?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 7
Kudos: 185





	Banger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aigafyuin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aigafyuin/gifts).
  * Inspired by [How to cure insomnia](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22775608) by [aigafyuin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aigafyuin/pseuds/aigafyuin). 



> Hey everyone! My gf and I fell into this hole of a ship and wrote stuff. For this short fic to make sense, it would be better if you checked out hers before (it's How to cure insomnia by aigafyuin, the link should be somewhere below - or above, idk, I suck at this), because this is a some kind of sequel to her story. Anyway, thank you for reading!

Geralt strode into the tavern, a giggling Jaskier in his wake. Geralt repressed the urge to sigh in exasperation. At least him being drenched in pus and blood from his fight with a ghoul seemed to make someone's day.

Jaskier had seemed particularly unphased this time, barely looking up from where he was tuning his lute when Geralt had been sent crashing into the tree right next to the bard by a very pissed-off and very ugly ghoul.

But well, Geralt couldn't deny that it pleased something primal in him that his lover trusted his fighting skills so much that not for one second had Jaskier thought that Geralt wouldn't come out on top of this encounter.

But Jaskier definitely didn't need to know that, or the brat would be even more obnoxious than usual.

The tavern was bustling with the expected evening crowd, tankards clinking, conversation buzzing and laughter ringing, and a bard was singing with his company in the middle of it all. Jaskier sent a longing look in their direction, but Geralt steered him towards the keeper of the establishment, intent on having a bath to wash off the grime of battle as soon as possible.

A bed would also be appreciable. To rest. Or put _someone_ to rest.

Jaskier certainly needed to be calmed down; he had been bouncing up and down all day long, complaining about the lack of adventure and inspiration, and Geralt was very close to throttle him.

Or bend him over the nearest flat surface. Whichever urge came first.

The keeper was politic enough not to refuse him the room, and Geralt internally acknowledged that Jaskier's songs might have done some good to his reputation. Not that he would admit that at loud. Ever.

After exchanging the key for a few coins, the Witcher made to go upstairs, but somebody held him back. He could have easily shrugged it off and continued walking, but as he looked down, he was met with Jaskier's pleading eyes, from where the bard was basically clinging on Geralt's arm.

“Geralt, let's stay for one song, just one!”

The White Wolf rolled his eyes, already aggravated, but Jaskier was determined.

“Don't be such a sourwolf, come on, I'll even rub your shoulders later if we stay for a bit.”

 _That_ was definitely a game changer.

“Hmm,” Geralt said, which was confirmation enough, and Jaskier's face lit up with a grin.

He dragged his Witcher to the nearest wall and they leaned on it together, listening as the company began a new song.

It was catchy enough, and Geralt smirked at Jaskier's frankly adorable excitement over a song that he eagerly said he had never heard before.

The lyrics were quite mysterious at first:

(To the tune of the chorus of “Toss a coin to your Witcher”)

_Here's the tale of a young man_

_Who did what no one could_

_Who did what no once could_

_Ooooooh_

But then, Geralt only barely avoided to choke on his spit.

_He seduced the great Witcher_

_And rode him to sleeeeeeep_

Beside him, Jaskier gasped loudly, looking torn between bursting into laughter or running for his life, and everybody in the tavern turned to look at them, the music dying down. Geralt could practically _sense_ the murderous aura which radiated from him.

“What. Is. That.” he growled lowly, and Jaskier blanched, holding up his hands in a placating gesture.

“You _have_ to believe me, Ger-bear, I did NOT write that song, although I kinda wish I did, because daaamn it's good, but yeah I might have told a bard friend of mine 'bout that one time we, er, you know, and well stories kind of travel fast in the guild and I'msorrydon'tmurderme?”

“Oh, you're gonna be sorry alright,” Geralt bit back with a wolfish grin, and his lover visibly shivered with anticipation.

The Witcher grabbed Jaskier and hoisted him up over his shoulder, making the bard gasp in surprise. Geralt could feel that his lover was already getting hard, and he rejoiced at the prospect of getting even rougher than usual.

Stalking to the stairs, Geralt proclaimed to the room: “In fact, I'm gonna make sure everybody here in this tavern knows how sorry you are.”

Jaskier whimpered, and it was only a matter of seconds before Geralt was slamming the door to their room shut.

***

Jaskier's back hit the wall and Geralt admired the arch of his throat for a second before attacking it, kissing, sucking and marking. He could feel Jaskier's legs tremble from where they were clinging on to his waist. Something carnal in him revelled. Making his lover squirm and lose himself to pleasure was the most satisfying sight Geralt had ever been treated to.

“Geralt, Geralt, come on, please, don't make me wait, you have to-”

The Witcher cut through Jaskier's begging with a bruising kiss, parting those sweet lips to claim them completely, swallowing the bard's moans and pleas.

Jaskier's hands were everywhere, restless, trying to reach everything all at once, stroking over Geralt's arms and chest, and down where the Witcher was getting harder with every delicious sound his lover made.

But the night wasn't about Jaskier getting his way that easily. Geralt stepped out from the wall, Jaskier still secured in his arms, and walked up to the bed to throw his treasure on the mattress. Jaskier bounced on it, and Geralt took a few moments to really look at him. His bard looked rightfully debauched, with his red, kiss-swollen lips, his tousled hair and his white chemise falling off his right shoulder.

Sensing Geralt's stare, Jaskier looked up through thick dark eyelashes, biting his bottom lip, knowing exactly how this attitude aroused his lover. But Geralt only smirked. He knew what Jaskier was trying to do, and it did work, but hell if he was going to give the brat the satisfaction of knowing so. He rather plastered on a disinterested expression and grunted:

“Strip.”

He heard Jaskier's sharp, turned-on intake of breath, but didn't watch as his lover scrambled to comply. Instead, he opted to retrieve the vial of oil they stacked in one of their bags for these instances. Geralt unbuckled his belt, freed his cock from the confines of his pants and gave himself a few heavenly and tension-releasing strokes, before pouring a bit of oil on his right hand and slicking himself up.

“Hands and knees,” he ordered, but turning back around, Geralt was greeted with the sweetest sight.

Jaskier was already presenting, naked down to the loose white chemise that he knew Geralt loved on him, with his pretty face smashed in the pillows and his hips raised high.

Geralt rumbled in satisfaction, and a full-body shiver rippled through Jaskier at the sound.

The Witcher climbed on the bed and stroked a hand down the lovely arch of his lover's back, rucking up the chemise, appreciating the fall of the fabric around Jaskier's lean body. He could tell that his bard was trying very hard not to start rambling, biting his lips to keep the words in.

Geralt pressed his hips to Jaskier's ass, tearing a keen out of his lover. He ground between Jaskier's asscheeks, rubbing his cock over the bard's most sensitive place, teasing, but never breaching his hole.

“Now you're going to be good and take my cock like this, understood baby?” Geralt growled, and Jaskier moaned.

They had never tried to fuck without any preparation, but Jaskier was most likely still open from the morning, and with the way he was pushing back on Geralt's cock, trying to get it inside, he could most likely handle the burn.

Geralt positioned himself, but didn't push forward just yet; after all, Jaskier wasn't supposed to have it easy.

“Beg for it, Jaskier.”

The reaction was instantaneous.

“Please please _please_ , Geralt, I want it so bad, want your cock, give it to me, please, I'll be good I'll be good I promise I prom-aah!”

Geralt bottomed out in one sharp thrust, Jaskier's hole giving way and sucking him in right away, but he stayed put for a while, seeing how his lover had grasped the sheets tightly at the stretch.

When Jaskier's breathy little ah's turned more pleasure than pain, Geralt took it as a sign for him to go on, and he pulled back slowly, dragging his cock against the walls of Jaskier's asshole, only to slam back, shoving Jaskier up the bed and drawing a loud whimper from the bard.

Geralt didn't ease into it, claiming his lover hard and fast right away, and soon enough Jaskier was openly moaning and fucking himself back on the Witcher's cock. Geralt grabbed a handful of chestnut locks of hair, knowing how it got his lover to have his hair pulled, and admired the pretty slope of Jaskier's body.

A continuous string of half-garbled words was tumbling past Jaskier's panting mouth, and Geralt angled his thrusts towards the bard's prostate to make him scream. That definitely worked out, and before long Jaskier was crying out with every snap of Geralt's hips.

Seeing Jaskier pushing back, trying to get even more of Geralt's cock in while drooling on the bedding brought Geralt closer to the edge with every passing second. He could feel Jaskier getting close, his sweet hole clenching down wildly, until eventually the bard came with a shout of Geralt's name that the whole tavern certainly did hear.

Jaskier's entire body locked up, and Geralt fucked him through his orgasm until his lover was sobbing with oversensitivity. But it wasn't long before his own pleasure caught up to him, and Geralt tumbled over the edge after a couple more thrusts.

He stayed there for a few seconds, getting his breath back, before pulling out carefully. Jaskier slumped into the rumpled sheets, utterly spent. Geralt hummed fondly at his lover.

“You ruined me, Geralt,” the bard whined. “I can't ever get up.”

The Witcher let out a chuckle, and got up to find something to clean up his lover before putting him to bed and secretly spooning him in his sleep.

“Well, good thing that you don't need to be up to write a song about what we did just now, right baby?”

Jaskier groaned.

“You're the worst, Geralt.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Take care, stay hydrated, and don't hesitate to tell me what you thought!


End file.
